


what christmas means to me.

by pyroallerdyce



Series: i have an obsession with fire and ice (aka all my john/bobby fics) [31]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Alternate Universe – Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe – No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Boys Kissing, Christmas, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Music, Come Eating, Come Shot, Cookies, December writing challenge, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, Fights, Forgiveness, Friendship, Gay Sex, Inspired by Music, Kissing, M/M, Makeup Sex, Making Up, Male Friendship, Pick-Up Lines, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Relationship(s), Short One Shot, Traditions, Tumblr Prompt, Wordcount: 5.000-10.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyroallerdyce/pseuds/pyroallerdyce
Summary: I see your smilin' faceLike I never seen beforeEven though I love you madlyIt seems I love you moreAnd little cards you give meWill touch my heart for sureAll these things and more, darlingThat's what Christmas means to me, my loveor:  John and Bobby are spending Christmas together for the first time since Bobby told his parents the truth about his sexuality.  Bobby is not handling things well and does something incredibly stupid, and his attempts to fix things between them make him realize just what John is to him.
Relationships: John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: i have an obsession with fire and ice (aka all my john/bobby fics) [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1202506
Kudos: 6
Collections: December Writing Challenge - 2019





	what christmas means to me.

**Author's Note:**

> happy December from the artist formerly known as porcelainsimplicity. 'tis still me, just a different username.
> 
> Day 6 of my December writing challenge. Today's prompt comes from somewhere on Tumblr, but I unfortunately cannot tell you from whom. I had this all written down but I lost that word doc in a computer crash and my attempts to find who authored all of the prompts were only partially successful. This is one of the prompts I couldn't find the author of, so if this is your prompt, please let me know so I can credit you! I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Day 6 prompt: “Your stocking won’t be the only thing that gets stuffed tonight.” “OH MY GOD!”  
> Day 6 title song: What Christmas Means To Me by Stevie Wonder

“I cannot believe that it's two days before Christmas and we're just putting up the Christmas decorations. We'll be taking these down in literally three days.”

John looked over at where Bobby was trying to put up a wreath, shaking his head as Bobby fumbled with it, knowing that it was because Bobby was so drunk. “It doesn't matter what day we do it. It matters that it's done for Christmas. And you tell me a day or night in the last month when we've had time to actually decorate the apartment.”

Bobby just shook his head and went back into the kitchen, and John could tell that he was going to get another drink. “Don't you think you've had enough today? You've been practically mainlining whiskey since we got up.”

“Fuck off, Johnny,” Bobby said, walking back into the room with the bottle in hand. “I need this today, alright?”

John got the wreath in place and turned to face him, understanding what Bobby meant but knowing that drinking himself to death wasn't going to help. “I know that this is very hard for you. I know that you would rather be in Boston right now. But I thought the fact that we're finally getting to spend Christmas together might mean something to you. It certainly does to me.”

John went back to the Christmas decorations as Bobby stayed silent, and when he turned to look at him again, Bobby had sat down on the sofa and was drinking straight from the bottle. “Baby.”

Bobby brought the bottle back down and glared at him. “You don't understand, Johnny. I know you're trying to, but this is something that you just cannot understand. You don't have a family.”

John felt old pain burn through him and turned back to the decorations, closing his eyes for a moment before pulling ornaments for the tree out of the tote they were in. “I know I can't. I know that it's drastically different to grow up in foster care than in a loving home like you did,” he said softly. “I just thought that you might enjoy being here with me. I mean, I am the reason you told them. You said I was enough.”

“Yeah, well, right now I'm doubting that,” Bobby said, getting up and walking into their bedroom. 

John felt his heart jump into his throat and blinked away the tears that were threatening to fall. Bobby just needed to work through this. That's what had to happen.

He just hoped that Bobby wouldn't try to throw away six fucking amazing years in the process. 

John took a deep breath and reminded himself that he needed to be patient. That's what Charles had told him. Just be patient. _Love him when he needs to be loved, hold him when he needs to cry, and when he gets angry over the fact that he told them and lost them because of you, just be patient. He will remember that he loves you and needs you more than anyone else pretty quickly._ He knew that his boss was speaking from experience, knew that he'd gone through all of this with Erik, but it was so, so much harder to do than just hearing that had made it seem like. 

John opened up the box with the ornaments in it and started searching through it for the metal hangers, knowing that he couldn't proceed without them. As he searched, he was reminded of the fact that they always did this together, their way of having Christmas with each other in the days when Bobby had gone home to Boston, and the fact that he was doing it alone really, really hurt. John took another deep breath and reminded himself of what Charles had said again. Patient. He just needed to be patient.

But then he heard something shatter against the wall in the bedroom, and he abandoned what he was doing and went in there, thankful that he was still wearing shoes because Bobby had thrown the bottle at the wall in front of their bed and there was glass everywhere. “Baby?” he said tentatively.

“Go the fuck away,” Bobby muttered. “I don't want to see you tonight.”

John closed his eyes and said the mantra again. Patient. He just needed to be patient. “Well, you're going to have to. I do live here too.”

“My name's the one on the lease. Get the fuck out.”

John stepped back as though he'd been stung, tears springing to his eyes. “Baby,” he said again, and Bobby spun around to look at him.

“What the fuck are you still here for? I want you fucking gone, John. I want you fucking gone.”

John just nodded and walked back into the main room, glancing around at the half-done Christmas decorations. This Christmas was supposed to be special. Now he had a feeling that it might be torture. “I'll be at Charles and Erik's if you care to speak to me,” he said as he grabbed his wallet, keys, phone, and coat. 

When Bobby said nothing to him in return, John walked out the door, locking it behind himself because he knew Bobby wouldn't think to. He jogged down the stairs instead of taking the elevator, walked out of the building and over to where he'd parked, and got in the car. It was absolutely freezing that night, the inside of the car only marginally better than the air outside of it, and he started the car to warm it up. He sent Charles a text asking if he could stay there, got a quick one in return that he could tell was full of concern but said that he could, leaned forward until his head rested against the steering wheel, and then he finally let himself cry.

He motherfucking hated Bobby's parents for doing this to him.

For doing this to them.

Bobby had gone down to Boston for Thanksgiving two days before the actual holiday and returned the very next day, letting John know that he'd finally told them. John had been completely unprepared for it because Bobby hadn't told him that he was going to do that, and things had been very challenging ever since. But he'd thought that the last two weeks had been going well. Bobby had seemingly enjoyed every one of their friends' parties, smiling and laughing and eating the various goodies that they had available. He'd come with John to the employee Christmas dinner for the first time, made conversation with some of John's co-workers, let John put an arm around his back to show his affection and support when he'd never even let John hold his hand in public before. He'd even told John that he finally felt free of everything that had chained him down.

And now here they were, two days before the first Christmas they would have ever spent together, and John was crying in the car and staying at his boss's for the night.

Patient. Be patient. He could hear Charles's voice in his head already because he knew that was what he was going to say. But he was pretty sure that when he was going through this with Erik, Erik had never kicked him out of their home. 

He felt the car begin to warm so he sat up, reaching for the heat and turning it up before wiping at his eyes and getting himself ready to drive. He glanced up at their apartment before he did, saw the decorations that they'd managed to get up before all of this happened, and swallowed hard before he merged out into traffic. 

Patient. Be patient.

Charles would have to forgive him if he found that extremely difficult at the moment.

**********

Bobby woke up slowly, his head aching in the way that let him know that he'd been really drunk when he fell asleep, and he reached for the other side of the bed to see if John was still sleeping. He frowned when he felt nothing but cold bedsheets and sat up slowly, looking around to notice all the lights were still on. “Johnny?”

He didn't get an answer so he stood up, starting to walk around the bed before he noticed all the glass on the floor. He blinked furiously as he tried to remember what had happened because something clearly had, and that had to be the reason John was sleeping on the sofa. But if John was sleeping on the sofa, then why were the lights all on? It was dark outside. John should be asleep still.

Bobby found a pair of shoes to put on so he could walk on the glass, making a mental note to clean that up as soon as he apologized for whatever it was he'd done the night before. But when he got into the main room and found the decorations half done and John not on the sofa, his heart jumped into his throat. 

No. 

He couldn't have.

Not when Bobby needed him the most.

Bobby took a deep breath to calm down, told himself that John had obviously just run out to get something, and sat down on the sofa to wait until he got back.

Except four hours went by and John never came back.

Bobby sat there with his head in his hands for a long time, trying to remember the night before. Eventually, memories of what happened right after he'd thrown the bottle at the wall came to him, and he felt tears spring to his eyes.

He'd kicked John out.

They'd made a promise to each other a long time ago to always resolve a fight before they went to bed. It didn't matter if that meant they stayed up all night trying to work it out. They were never going to go to bed angry with each other and they were never going to walk out of a fight either. No slamming doors, no going down to the bar to get drunk only to come back at two a.m. and fight some more because nothing was resolved. There wasn't going to be any of that.

And now he'd done this.

He stood up and found his phone underneath the mail on the table, scrolling through his contacts until he found John's, and called. But when the phone was answered, it wasn't John on the other end. “Erik?”

“Yes, it's me,” Erik said, and he could tell Erik had just gone into another room. “I'm not sure he wants to speak to you at the moment.”

“What have I done?” Bobby murmured, collapsing back onto the sofa with tears in his eyes. “How could I have done this?”

“You're doing the same thing I did when this happened to me,” Erik said softly. “You're angry with him for their actions. But John didn't do this, Bobby. They did.”

Bobby sat there as he felt tears roll down his cheeks. “I miss them so much, Erik.”

“I know you do. I've been there. But as hard as it is to do, you need to realize that they are the past and John is your future. He's over here concerned that you're going to throw the last six years away because of this. What you said earlier really fucking hurt.”

“I don't know what I said. I was pretty drunk.”

“You shouldn't be drinking that much,” Erik pointed out. “It might make you feel better in the moment, but it's never going to help you heal. That's something John can do. He can help you heal. Charles was so patient with me when I was going through this and I know that's the advice he gave to John. Stay patient. And then tonight happened and I think he's afraid that being patient isn't going to be enough. He doesn't know what to do to help you, and you drinking yourself to death isn't going to help things any.”

“I wish I'd never told them,” Bobby whispered.

“The only way you were going to have life with John be the way you two have always wanted was if you told them. You decided that you wanted that life and so you told them. You chose John, Bobby. I know deep down that you don't mean what you just said. And you know it too.”

“I just keep thinking about how things would be if I was in Boston right now,” Bobby got out. “And I keep thinking about all the things I'll never get to experience again.”

“That's a very difficult part of this journey that you're on now. I'm not going to lie to you about that. But John was so excited that you were going to get to spend Christmas together for the first time. He's been talking about it ever since Thanksgiving. He was heartbroken over what you had to go through that night in Boston, without a doubt. But he was excited about your future too.”

“I think I remember him saying something about that last night,” Bobby said after a moment. “I think.”

“He mentioned something about him not being able to understand what you're going through because he doesn't have a family,” Erik said after a moment.

“Oh, fuck, tell me I didn't,” Bobby exclaimed. “Please tell me I didn't.”

“I'm afraid that you did,” Erik said softly. “I hope you are intelligent enough to understand how much hearing that hurt.”

“I am,” Bobby said before a sob escaped him. “Fuck, I've fucked everything up, haven't I?”

“Don't think that. That won't help you when you try to fix this.”

“He's not going to want to come near me for days if I said that to him,” Bobby sniffled. “I promised him I would never throw that back in his face like that.”

“Bobby, he'd come home right now if he thought that would make everything better in an instant. But he knows that it won't.”

“Can you tell him that when he's ready to come home I will be here ready to apologize?” Bobby asked.

“I will if you promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you're not going to drink in the meantime. Him coming home to you drunk again will not make things better. It will only make things worse.”

Bobby swallowed hard. “I promise,” he murmured. “I just want him to come home. It's Christmas.”

“I know it is, and that's part of the reason that he's so upset. This was supposed to be special, your first Christmas together. I don't think you understand how much that meant to him after all these years of watching you go down to Boston when he had nowhere to go.”

Bobby sniffled again, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Please just pass along my message, Erik, though I'll understand if he doesn't want to see me until after New Year's.”

“I think you'll find he'll be home by noon,” Erik said, and Bobby could hear another voice in the background. “I'll be there in a minute, darling. I'm going to let you go now, Bobby. Remember what you promised me about having a drink.”

“I'll remember,” Bobby said before murmuring a goodbye and hanging up. 

He'd fucked this up so badly that he had absolutely no idea how he was going to fix this. No idea.

**********

John opened the apartment door a little before noon and looked around, seeing all the Christmas decorations put up. He took a deep breath and closed the door behind him, locking and chaining it before putting his stuff down on the table. He slung his coat over the chair and walked into the main room, shaking his head when he noticed stuff was in the wrong place. So he started to rearrange everything to make it look like it did every year, and when he turned around, Bobby was standing there.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

Bobby took a deep breath. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I'm sure you are, baby. I'm sure you are.”

“But you're still furious.”

“It's one thing to kick me out of our bed like you've done in the last week, but you kicked me out of our home, baby. It's going to be a while before I forgive you for that.”

“I deserve that,” Bobby murmured. “I really deserve that.”

John looked around the room. “I see you finished decorating.”

“I clearly didn't put everything in its right place if you were already adjusting it.”

“That's alright. I'm more used to seeing these decorations at Christmas than you are. I just thought that this year we would be enjoying them together.”

Bobby walked into the room and came to a stop next to John. “We are, Johnny. I promise you that we are.”

John just shook his head. “You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe your promises right now. You've broken a lot of them recently.”

Bobby reached for him but John took a step back and Bobby silently cursed himself. “I cannot begin to apologize to you enough for what I said about you not having a family. I really can't.”

John took a moment to figure out how he wanted to phrase things. “I had no family. You're right. I was adrift in the world, all alone. And then I met you. You showed me what love really was. And then we've talked so much about having a family of our own someday, and I thought that you telling them was a step in that direction. What has become increasingly obvious, however, is that you don't consider me family the way that I consider you. You are all I have, Bobby. You are everything. There are no parents to go visit for Christmas. I have spent every Christmas of my life alone. I just thought that this year would be different. I thought I'd finally get to know what it felt like to have a family Christmas. And now...now I don't know what I know anymore.”

John walked around Bobby and towards the bedroom, and Bobby took a moment before following him. He stood in the doorway as he watched John strip off everything but his boxers and climb onto the bed, covering up with the blankets and adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “Johnny.”

“I need some sleep,” John said without looking over at him. “I just spent all fucking night crying into Charles's shoulder over this. The least you can do is let me sleep.”

“Alright,” Bobby said, backing out of the room and closing the door behind him. He walked into the main room and sat down on the sofa, thinking about everything that John had just said, and let himself sob into his hands. 

He'd made John think that he wasn't part of Bobby's family.

He didn't know how to fix this. He had absolutely no idea how to fix this.

**********

John woke up to the smell of food drifting through the apartment, though he wasn't exactly sure what it was. He sat up and ran his hands over his face, a glance at the clock telling him he'd been asleep for almost six hours. He was going to put on a happy face and enjoy this Christmas no matter what had happened, so he stood up. He found clothes and dressed, and then he made his way out of the bedroom and into the rest of the apartment.

He found Bobby in the kitchen, and he almost let out a laugh when he realized what Bobby was doing. “You're baking cookies.”

“I'm baking cookies,” Bobby confirmed. “My grandmother's sugar cookies. I stole the recipe from Mom's kitchen a few years ago because I knew I'd want to make them someday.”

“So you've waited a few years to do it?”

Bobby took a deep breath. “I promised myself that I would only bake them for my family,” he said softly. “And stupidly, I thought that I'd only do that when we had kids. To me, that was family. Parents and children. A family. I never even stopped to consider that you were just as much my family as they were.”

“Bobby,” John said, but Bobby kept talking. 

“I told them because I couldn't do that to you anymore, you know. I couldn't go home for the holidays without you there. I wanted you to experience what I experienced. My little cousins and their excitement when my uncle would dress up as Santa Claus and show up on Christmas Eve. My grandmother playing the piano and singing White Christmas because it was my grandfather's favorite. Ronny and I still leaving cookies out for Santa, and Mom having written us a note back, even though we're both well into our late twenties. I wanted you to experience it all.”

“Bobby,” John said again, but Bobby kept talking again.

“I put off telling them for so long because I always knew that you never would. I knew they'd never accept this. I knew that they would never see you like I see you. They would only think of you as the man that was keeping them from getting the perfect daughter-in-law that they craved. My parents didn't have a daughter, so they were always so excited at the prospect of having two daughters-in-law. I cannot tell you how many times I was asked if I'd found that special woman yet. Every time they asked, I wanted to tell them about you. I wanted to tell them how amazing you are and that they'd love you just as much as I do. I just knew they never would. So I put off telling them and put off telling them and put off telling them. I knew you were so frustrated with me over it. I knew it and I kept doing it anyway.”

“Baby,” John tried, but Bobby just kept talking.

“I never should have said what I said to you last night. Any of it, because I remember all of it now. Every single word I said to you last night makes my heart ache, so I can't even begin to imagine what you're feeling. I don't know how to ever make it up to you. I don't know how to ever make our first Christmas together what it should have been because I know that I've ruined it. This was going to be special. I knew it. I knew you felt that way too. And I drank myself silly and said what I said anyway. So, I know baking you cookies isn't going to change anything, but I thought maybe that I can at least give you a little bit of what I experienced every year. I'll never get to give you anything more than that.”

John sighed and walked into the kitchen, pulling Bobby away from the counter and wrapping his arms around him. Bobby's arms came up to encircle him after a moment, and they just stood there like that for a while, John's head coming to rest on Bobby's shoulder. “I love you,” John said eventually. “And I forgive you.”

“You shouldn't.”

“Maybe not,” John murmured. “But I do.”

“I love you so much, Johnny. And I know it seems like I regret telling them, but deep down, I don't. It's just been very difficult to deal with this, especially around the holidays. I never should have told them around this time of year. But I just couldn't go another second without them knowing about you. You deserved so much better than that.”

“I wish I had someone to tell about you,” John said after a moment. “I wish I had parents to bring you home to, traditions that I could get you to experience. But I don't have any of that. I just have what we're going to create together. The only one we really have is putting up the decorations, and we didn't even get to do that this year. I am so happy that you're here with me and not in Boston, and for the past week, it's felt like you'd rather be anywhere but here.”

“I want to be here more than anything,” Bobby whispered, letting his head rest on John's. “I will never want to be anywhere else. I want to be by your side for the rest of my life, whether that be long or short.”

John poked him in the side. “It better not be short. I'd be an absolute wreck without you.”

“I will do everything in my power to make sure it's long, Johnny. I promise.”

John broke their embrace and pulled Bobby into a deep kiss. “I love you so much. You're everything to me, baby. You're my world.”

“You're mine,” Bobby said back. “And I'm really, really sorry for making you feel otherwise.”

John kissed him again and then turned towards the stove. “Are any of the cookies done yet?”

“Yep,” Bobby said, turning around and grabbing the bag that he'd already made. “You want to try one?”

“Yeah, I do,” John said, smiling when Bobby handed him one. He took a bite and chewed it, grinning. “These are very good.”

“I know they are,” Bobby said, smiling at him. “Why do you think I stole the recipe?”

“I think our kids will really like these,” John said, taking another bite. “Are you done baking them yet?”

“Yeah, I just took the last batch out of the oven and I've already made so many of these that I don't really need this extra batter. I was just trying to figure out how to use it up.”

John turned to make sure that the oven was off before reaching for Bobby's hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“I know we need to put out our presents still but,” John stopped and turned around with a wicked grin. “Your stocking won’t be the only thing that gets stuffed tonight.” 

“OH MY GOD!” Bobby broke into hysterical laughter. “I cannot believe you think that line will work on me.”

John pulled Bobby into the bedroom and kicked the door shut. “So, you don't want to have makeup sex then?”

“Oh, no, we're having makeup sex,” Bobby said, pulling his shirt off. “I just think that's an absolutely atrocious line.”

John laughed and tossed his shirt onto the floor, pulling Bobby closer and kissing him hard. “I think it's probably the worst line I've ever come up with.”

“I've never heard anything worse, that's for sure,” Bobby said, running his hands along John's chest. “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“I know, baby, I know,” John said, pulling Bobby into a deep kiss. “Let's just move on and enjoy Christmas, okay?”

“I know you think I wish I was there,” Bobby said softly. “And there is a part of me that does, and that part will probably always be there. But I'm glad that I'm here with you. I'm glad that we finally get to spend Christmas together. I always wanted this to happen. I just wanted it to happen there.”

“Shh,” John murmured, kissing Bobby again. “I know. But I need you to focus on me now, okay? Focus on us and the Christmas we're going to have together.”

“I will, I promise,” Bobby said, letting his hands settle on the front of John's pants. “We need to make up Christmas traditions of our own, right?”

John gasped as Bobby slid a hand into the front of his pants, his hand encircling his cock. “You are a bastard,” he got out as Bobby slowly moved his hand along the shaft. “But yes, we need our own traditions.”

“Then I say that we make fucking on Christmas Eve one of them,” Bobby said with a wicked grin on his face. “Maybe with some Christmas music on.”

John laughed. “Seriously?”

“Well, at least until we have kids. We'd obviously have to change that up,” Bobby said, leaning to kiss John sweetly. “What do you say?”

“I say that having kids is really going to fuck up our sex life,” John said before smiling. “But I think making this a tradition until then is one I can totally get behind.”

Bobby removed his hand from John's pants, smiling at John's whine. “In a minute, Johnny. Let me go put some music on. You get undressed.”

“What kind of music are we talking about?” John called out as Bobby walked out of the room. “Because I don't want to fuck to Mariah Carey.”

“Don't worry. I have a better idea.”

John shook his head, worrying about what kind of music Bobby was going to put on before laughing when Bing Crosby singing White Christmas came on through the speaker they kept in their bedroom. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Bobby walked back into the room and noticed John was still standing there with his pants on. “I thought I told you to get undressed.”

“And I didn't think we were going to be fucking to Bing Crosby.”

Bobby walked over to him and pulled him into a deep kiss. “It's a Christmas crooners playlist and therefore it will be all kinds of old, good Christmas music from voices that remind me of yours.”

John stared at him for a moment. “What?”

“When you sing along to the radio, you don't sound like some modern-day pop star to me. You sound like you would fit in during the 1950s. It really turns me on, to be honest. It's incredibly sexy.”

John broke out into a smile. “You want to pretend we're in the 1950s, don't you?”

“Someday,” Bobby said, reaching for his belt and undoing it. “I want you to fuck me while you're wearing that really tight-fitting suit of yours, the pants pulled down just enough to free your cock, while we're listening to a 1950s playlist.”

“Six years and I never knew you had this side of you,” John said, pulling Bobby into a kiss. “I rather like that idea.”

“Then we'll have to do that soon,” Bobby said, getting his button and zipper undone and shoving his jeans down. “But right now, we've got a new Christmas tradition to get to.”

John reached for his pants and got them shoved down, kicking them off across the room just as Bobby did the same. They came together in another kiss, this one hungrier and more passionate, before John turned Bobby to the right and pushed him down on the bed. Bobby smiled up at him as John climbed on top of him, grinding their hips together and making Bobby gasp. “You feel so fucking good, Johnny.”

John bent down and kissed Bobby deeply. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Bobby said as John started kissing his way down his chest. “I am so glad I'm here for this.”

“What would you normally be doing right now?” John asked before sucking on one nipple and then the other, making Bobby moan.

“Right now? Seriously?”

John paused and looked up at him. “Yes, right now.”

Bobby took a deep breath as John's hands ran up his sides, a shiver running down his spine as he attacked a really sensitive spot. “My mother would probably be handing out drinks to everyone. My father would probably be telling some sort of story about when he played high school football.”

“That sounds boring as shit. Was it?” John said as he licked at the soft skin above Bobby's cock, smiling into his skin when Bobby's hands came up to tangle in his hair. “In a minute, baby.”

Bobby groaned in frustration as John started kissing along the skin just to the right of his cock. “Fucking blow me already.”

“Not until you answer my question. Was it boring as shit?”

Bobby took a couple of deep breaths as John took one of his balls into his mouth, sucking it gently. He groaned at the feeling but knew that John would never touch his cock until he answered his question. “Yes,” he breathed out. “It was boring as shit. It would have been so much more tolerable if you'd been there.”

John looked up at him. “Then you're glad you're not there right now, right? Because I'd like to think that what we're doing is more entertaining than your father's old stories.”

“I'm so glad that I'm here, Johnny. I really am. Now can you fucking blow me before I die?”

John laughed and wrapped a hand around Bobby's dick, jerking it slowly before bending down and wrapping his lips around the head, tonguing the slit and making Bobby's hands come back up to tangle in his hair. Bobby moaned loudly as John started to slowly move up and down, taking more of Bobby's cock on every downstroke. Bobby's hips started to come up off the mattress, thrusting into John's mouth as much as he could. John stopped moving and let Bobby fuck his mouth, feeling Bobby's hands tighten in his hair as he got closer and closer to coming. Before he could, John pulled away and sat up, making Bobby groan in frustration. “Johnny, please. I need to come.”

“I know you do,” John said, leaning forward and kissing Bobby hard. “But I want to be fucking you when you do.”

John's hand slid underneath the pillow and grabbed the lube, sitting back on his knees and flipping it open. “Spread your legs.”

Bobby reached down and pulled his legs back, taking a shuddering breath as a slick finger gently circled his entrance before sliding in. He let his eyes close as John worked the finger in and out of him, listening to the sound of Dean Martin singing about how he had his love to keep him warm. Bobby couldn't help but think that was exactly what he had. John would always be there to keep him warm like he felt at that moment.

John added a second finger as the sound of Bing Crosby hit him again, this time singing about letting it snow, and he could not believe that they were actually fucking to this music. He moved his fingers around as much as he could, trying to get Bobby as loose as possible. He would never admit to it, but Bobby was pretty tense with anger and frustration still, and John was not going to hurt him. Bobby let out a loud moan when John's fingers brushed against his prostate, keening in pleasure when John brushed it again. “Please just fuck me already,” he breathed out. “Please.”

John scissored his fingers a few more times before pulling them out and reaching for the lube again. They'd lost the latex about two years ago after they both got tested for anything they could test for and everything came back negative, but John still had moments when he went to look around for the condom to put on. But as he poured some more lube into his hand and slicked up his dick, he couldn't help but smile. Bobby was his, and only his, and it was going to be that way forever.

Bobby sighed happily when John pulled him closer before pressing into him, feeling the stretch for a few moments before his body remembered that it really liked this and relaxed into it. When John was buried in him, he paused a moment to make sure Bobby was ready, waiting until he got the gentle kick on his arm before pulling out and thrusting back in. Bobby threw his head back as the pleasure washed over him, so unbelievably happy to be there with John and experiencing this. This was part of why he'd told his parents the truth. So he could experience this with John all the time and never leave him behind for important things like Christmas ever again. 

He looked up to see John staring down at him, and the look of love in John's eyes took his breath away. He was pretty sure the same look was shining from his eyes too. “I love you, Johnny,” he got out, moaning when that made John thrust in really hard and deep. “Oh fuck, you feel so good.”

“You feel good too,” John murmured as he continued to thrust, going harder and deeper on every stroke. He bent down to kiss Bobby, the soft and sweet kiss a complete dichotomy to the way he was fucking him. “And I love you, baby. I'm so happy that you're here.”

The sound of Louis Armstrong singing about a winter wonderland hit Bobby and he laughed at how absurd this idea of fucking to Christmas music was. Then he moaned loudly when John sat back up and changed the angle of his thrusts, and John knew that he'd found his prostate. He snapped his hips back and forth faster, delighting in the moans that were spilling from Bobby's lips, letting his eyes drift down when Bobby wrapped a hand around his cock and began to jerk it quickly. “That's it, baby. Get yourself off.”

Frank Sinatra singing about mistletoe and holly got through to him just as Bobby arched his back and came, white spurts landing all over his chest. John kept thrusting as the tension built up at the base of his spine, and Bobby looked up at him with a sated smile. “Your turn.”

John put his hands on the bed on either side of Bobby, propping himself up as he felt himself come, buried deep inside him. When he felt like he could breathe again, he bent down and kissed Bobby deeply as he carefully pulled out of him. He kissed along Bobby's jaw as Bobby made soft, happy noises, trailing down his neck and then to his chest. Bobby groaned when John started to lick up his release, watching with interest as John cleaned him up with his tongue. When John was finished, he came up to kiss him again, and Bobby licked into his mouth, exploring with his tongue and smiling when it caused John to shudder against him. 

When Bobby broke the kiss, John moved off of him and collapsed down onto the bed next to him, still breathing heavily. Bobby turned onto his side and traced patterns into John's skin as Nat King Cole sang about chestnuts roasting on an open fire in the background. Eventually, John's breathing slowed down to normal and he smiled up at Bobby. “We are definitely doing that every year.”

“With the Christmas music?”

“If it turns you on so much, then yes, with the music,” John said, laughing. “Though it was really weird to hear Bing Crosby singing about snow while I was fingering you. That will take some getting used to.”

Bobby laughed. “Yeah, well, hearing Louis Armstrong sing Winter Wonderland while you were fucking the hell out of me took a little getting used to as well.” 

John took a deep breath as Dean Martin started singing Baby, It's Cold Outside and he laughed, pulling Bobby into a sweet kiss. “That was pretty incredible though.”

“Mmm, it really was,” Bobby said, settling against John's side and putting his head on his shoulder. “We're going to have to do that again.”

“Definitely. I like this new tradition of ours.”

“I have an idea of one for tomorrow.”

“And what is that?”

“Fucking again, but this time on the floor by the Christmas tree.”

John laughed. “Are all the traditions you're going to come up with about us fucking? Because there's no way we're going to be able to keep these once we have kids.”

“I know,” Bobby said, tracing patterns into John's skin again. “We can make new ones when we have kids. For now, these are just for us.”

John leaned over and brushed a kiss along Bobby's head. “Then yes, I like the sound of that new tradition.”

Bobby grinned. “Maybe I'll ride you then. Make it different from this one.”

“Oh, fuck,” John groaned. “Are you trying to kill me on Christmas Day? Because that will kill me.”

Bobby shifted and pressed a kiss to John's shoulder. “It will not. You love it when I do that, and you know it.”

“I know I do,” John said. “So, are you glad that you're here now?”

“I'm always going to be glad that I'm here,” Bobby murmured. “I just wasn't actually realizing that this week. I was drowning in my pain. I didn't let you try to save me from it. But I promise, next time I start feeling like that, I'll talk to you instead of getting so drunk you have to spend the night at Charles and Erik's because I did something incredibly stupid.”

“I know there's going to be really hard times, baby. I do. I know I have to be patient with you when they come. But last night really, really hurt.”

Bobby shifted so he could kiss John, pouring everything that he felt for him into the kiss. “I'm sorry. I love you. I don't need anyone but you, no matter what I said to you when I was drunk.”

“I love you too, baby,” John murmured, smiling up at him. “And stop apologizing. I forgave you already.”

Bobby smiled down at him before pressing their lips together gently. “Okay, I will. And I'm going to make tomorrow be the best Christmas you've ever had.”

“I'll be with you,” John said softly. “That will automatically make it the best Christmas I've ever had.” 

Bobby settled back against him. “It's going to be the best Christmas I've ever had too.”

“You don't have to say that just because I did, baby.”

“I'm not,” Bobby said seriously. “I have always wanted to spend Christmas with the people I love the most. In my mind, that was always them. But that was the safe choice. The easy choice. The familiar choice. But it wasn't the right choice. Being here with you is the right choice. I'm just so sorry that I took so long to make it.”

John reached out and tangled their fingers together. “I'm just happy that you finally made it. I'm happy that we're finally going to have Christmas together. I've always felt so lonely around this time of year. I'm not lonely this year. I finally get to have a Christmas that I'll enjoy.”

Bobby closed his eyes briefly. “And I ruined it.”

“No, you didn't,” John murmured, squeezing Bobby's fingers. “I promise. Just promise me that you're not going to get drunk anymore. I really didn't like the last few days.”

“I promise,” Bobby said softly. “I won't even have a drink if you don't want me to.”

“I don't mind you having a drink or two. I mind you inhaling the whole bottle in one sitting.”

“I'll never do that again,” Bobby said, pressing a kiss to John's shoulder again. “I promise that too.”

John went to talk but yawned instead. “I'm exhausted. Between staying up all night talking to Charles and Erik and what we just did, I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

“Then let's sleep for a while,” Bobby said, moving away from him and reaching for the blankets, covering them up. 

“We need to get cleaned up first,” John mumbled. 

“We can take showers later. I'm not sure I can stand at the moment.”

John let his eyes close as Bobby settled against his side again. “Okay, baby. Then we'll sleep.”

Bobby pressed another kiss to John's shoulder before closing his eyes. He missed what was going on in Boston terribly, but he knew that tomorrow was going to be the best Christmas he'd ever had, and that was because he was finally going to get to spend it with the man he loved, and it was going to be that way for the rest of his life.

Just the thought made him smile.


End file.
